Hunting: A Phantom's Tale
by Bronze's Notebook
Summary: Two cursed brothers and a half-ghost orphan happen to cross paths on a twist of fate. Now, don't think that just because he has big, baby-blue eyes, a winning smile, and a youthful charisma, that Sam and Dean Winchester are going to let a strange ghost like this slip away. And he's here to stay, whether he wants it or not. (He doesn't.) Post-TUE, mid-season two.
1. Rude Awakenings

The Winchesters have had many problems on their hands that most people would have them locked up in a padded room for. They've hunted vengeful spirits, vampires, the fabled Yellow-Eyed Demon, even a trickster that one time - but never had they been in such a predicament as this.

A 15-year-old boy was tied to a chair with iron binds surrounded by a ring of salt in the centre of a Devil's Trap. His glaring eyes were glowing a dangerous, unnatural green, but this didn't seem to intimidate the brothers.

Sam opened his exorcism book. Dean walked into the circle and put a hand on the back of the boy's chair, leaning in to look him directly in the eye. "I don't wanna hurt you, kid," he said in a deep voice laced with a thin Southern accent.

Danny's eyes flared so bright, you couldn't even look directly into them. "Well, you're kinda failing in that department," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Now let me go before I do something we'll all regret."  
That last part was a bit unnecessary, partly because Danny was completely powerless, but whatever.

Dean continued to look the boy over.

Without averting his eyes, he said, "Sam."  
Sam glanced at the book, then his brother, then the Halfa, then back to  
the book.

_"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…" _

Danny grunted. Something felt wrong inside him. That icy, drafty feeling, that inner cold that he had begun to look to as comfort, began to melt.  
His body jerked a little. His heart was pounding in contrast to his core, which was beginning to tick slower and slower. Whatever, he thought, probably the adrenaline. Exorcisms and stuff aren't the real deal.

_"…omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica…"_

His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was beginning to feel heavier. Maybe not the adrenaline after all. He hissed in pain.  
Sam paused and blinked, then reluctantly continued at Dean's expectant glance.

"Uh…oh! _Ergo draco maledicte et sectio. Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica…"_

The teen realized that what felt like a thousand-pound flame was normal body temperature and weight. This must be what it was like to be fully alive. The events of the past few weeks hit him in the head like a train:  
The explosion at the Nasty Burger.

Finding the charred bodies of his friends and family in the rubble.

Running away to ensure never becoming…IT.

Finding this little town.

Going ghost at night, flying over everything just like he used to for comfort.

A run-in with two tall men holding guns.

Waking up tied to a chair, slightly bruised and completely powerless.  
Uncomfortable metal binds that chafed his skin worse than any anti-ecto binds ever have.

_"…Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte…"_

Every breath was deeper, longer. That's right, humans need to breathe more often.

Finally he managed to gasp something out: "My fam'ly…"

Sam stopped and looked down at Dean, who was standing next to him now. Dean looked back up at him. "My fam'ly…they were killed."

"Whaddya mean," the older said in a low voice, "killed?"

At last, the Halfa could breathe in normal sizes - well, normal for him. He felt his core beginning to cool down, ticking at its normal pace. He was reunited with his ghost half.

"'N' the monster that killed 'em, he's…" he trailed off. Telling these two hunters that he (technically) killed his own family wouldn't help anything.  
Dean cleared his throat. "This monster…wouldn't have happen to have yellow eyes, did it?"

"W-what? No. No, red."

Sam spoke up. "Did your mom…die in a nursery fire?"

"What? No! No, where did you get that from?"

"N-nothing. It's…nothing."

He and his brother glanced at each other and exchanged one of their famous silent conversations.

Danny sighed. "Look," he told them, flexing his hands. "I want to keep doing what I do, y'know, hunting ghosts. And I know you want to keep doing that, too. And I got nowhere to go. So how 'bout you unbind me, let me go. I can go about my business -y'know, saving people, hunting things - and you two can do…whatever it is you do." He looked up at the brothers with sky-blue eyes.

"Sorry freakshow, no-can-do." the shorter brother stated. "Sammy, how d'ya think we send this one back ta Hell?"

Sam was already flipping through his book. "I-I don't know," he said quietly. "I don't think Dad or Bobby ever knew anything about a…what are you?"

"Halfa. Half a ghost, half a person. Halfa." He stared down at his shoes. "I'm, ah, the only one left." He thought of Dani, his clone, and choked back tears. She'd be devastated when she found out. He couldn't risk having her hunted down by these guys.

"Well...okay. They didn't know anything about Halfas." He closed the book with a sigh. "Dean, he's just a kid. He's been through a lot. And judging by what he says, he's a lot like us."

"Yeah, except he's part spirit!"

"At least take the binds off," Danny cut in. "You guys say the salt or whatever will keep me in, and the trap leaves me powerless. So at least take this stupid iron off my wrists."

"No!" Both brothers shouted at the same time. Danny sighed, his head drooping.

Sam sighed. "Look, all I'm saying is, maybe we keep 'im close, keep an eye on 'im, and once we decide if we can trust him, we'll either let him go or exorcise him."

Dean turned around to look at the teen, who's head was still down. "Alright," he whispered, "but if that thing kills us both, Imma pound your ass in Hell."

* * *

Danny sighed with relief when he heard footsteps and felt his wrists unchain. He had heard the whole conversation, of course, what with his super hearing, but he didn't say anything.

Once he was unbound, he stood up and rubbed his wrists gratefully. The hunters were standing tense and ready to pounce, but he tried not to let that get on his nerves.

...Only to have a pair of iron handcuffs slapped on. "Oh, c'mon!" he whined, but Dean ignored it and shoved him toward the door of the warehouse they were in.

Once they were outside, he was once again shoved - painfully - into the back of an old Chevy Impala. He looked up ad the car ceiling and sighed.

A Devil's Trap drawn on. Of course.

The Winchesters climbed into the front seats. Dean turned on the engine and started blasting _Highway to Hell._

"Well, kid," he called into the back seat. "It's your lucky day. You get to stick with us."

Danny sighed and blowed a lock of midnight hair out of his face.

Fantastic.


	2. Car Ride Interogations

**Hey hey!**  
**So looks like I forgot to leave my usual author's notes last chapter. Oh well. Guest Review responses:**

**Guest: What it meant was that the exorcism was tearing Danny away from his ghost half, making him more and more human as time goes on. So when Sam stopped, his ghost was able to return and he was a Halfa once more.**

**ZAP: Thanks, man! Yeah, it ticks me off that most crossies like this make it so that Danny is immune to all that mojo.**

**Anyways, these are among reviews that made me literally swell my chest in pride as I read. Thank you all for the kind words!**  
**I do not own Danny Phantom or Supernatural, though obviously I would like too.**

* * *

The car ride, as mentally and emotionally uncomfortable as it was, was just as physically annoying. The old car was kind of rickety, and Danny felt like the skin on his wrists was going to fall off at any moment.

He has constantly tried to bargain for his freedom - or at least just freedom from these _STUPID CUFFS_ - as frequently as a child might ask, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

Obviously, the answer was always the same.

So the ghost-boy had finally given up with a hefty sigh, sinking lower into the car's backseat. Sam, who had been blankly staring ahead and trying to let his brother do the talking, took a deep breath. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry, alright? But we can't trust you."

All he got for a response was a scoff.

He and his brother looked at each other again for a minute. "So," Dean said, "Have you always been part spirit?"

"Great way to break the ice, pal." Danny sat up straight. "No, I haven't. I was, ah, how to put this…oh, yeah. Fried from the inside out with electrified ectoplasm."

Silence followed. "Care to explain?" the man asked.

"See, my parents-" the Halfa choked a little bit, but continued. "My parents were hunters, like you. They specialized in ghosts, spirits. And one day, they found a way to break the veil and find a way into the ghost dimension, what we call the Ghost Zone."

Sam sat up straight. "They…they did what?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Well, anyway, my best friend Sam-" his voice cracked at that one. "I-I mean, Sam as in Samantha. Anyway, she, uh, s-she wanted me to check out the inside. It was broken, just a big fancy hole in the wall. So I went in." He took a deep breath. "I got my foot tangled in some wires. So I leaned on the wall for support while I untangled myself, and I felt a click under my fingers. Turns out, the 'on' button was on the inside." Dean winced. He could see where this was headed.

"Yeah. Long story short, ghost energy and human flesh apparently _do_ mix. Y'know, in an incredibly horrifying, excruciatingly painful way."

The rest of the long car ride was filled with an icy silence.

* * *

When the three finally made it to the nearest motel, Sam and Dean climbed out of the car. "What, you're just gonna leave me here?" Danny called. "Open your mouth again and we might," came the deep-voiced response.

When they closed their car doors, Sam looked into his brother's eyes. "Dean," he said calmly, "It's not his fault he's a freak. Maybe we can trust him."

"What? Are you insane? Guy shows up flyin' around at midnight - I didn't even know ghosts _could_ fly - blowin' up trees with this, this green fire-"

"He was upset, Dean. Kid lost his whole life."

"Yeah, well, how d'ya know he's not lyin'? We both know demons lie, try to mess with your head."

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He may be part ghost, but his mind is still human. A kid wouldn't have the motive to try and get us from the inside."

The brothers glared at each other from across the Impala. Finally Dean sighed. "I still don't trust 'im, but if you wanna uncuff 'im for the night, go ahead. But you gotta make sure he doesn't try anything." He tossed him the handcuff keys and went inside.

Sam put the keys in his jacket pocket and opened Danny's car door. The kid climbed out (it was hard without hands) and looked down at him. The poor kid had been through so much. His raven hair was ratty, his dull blue eyes cast down, his t-shirt ripped up and filthy. His pale, thin arms were covered in bruises - some of which, they had caused.

Danny knew that he could probably fire a little finger-blast at the guy to knock him off his feet and run away. One of his many enhanced features was increased stamina and speed. He could out run any grown man. But then, what would he do? He would still be cuffed, unable to go ghost or go intangible. Even as a C-student, he was able to understand that.

So he reluctantly followed the taller man into the motel. It was nice, modern. Dean was busy flirting with the woman behind the counter, scribbling something on the check-in list as he spoke. He said something funny. The woman laughed and looked at the list as Sam and Danny walked over.

"Okay, ah…Chris, Neil and Nick Okun. You're in room 24B." They thanked her and took the key, quickly spinning Danny towards the room to keep anyone from seeing his handcuffs.

* * *

The room was the same modern-theme as the lobby, with two queen-sized beds and a pullout futon. Once inside, Dean locked the door and turned around, motioning to his brother. The latter nodded and took the keys out of his jacket. Danny eyed the keys, following the man's every move as he unlatched the iron cuffs. As soon as they were off, the ghost boy clenched his fists and shifted to go into a fighting stance, but he suddenly felt very tired, and that futon was looking pretty nice.

So, instead, he rubbed his wrists, nodded at his captors, and walked into the room's bathroom. In the drawer, like in all motels, were those little bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and - yes - _lotion! _He slathered half the bottle on the new red rashes that had formed, then turned on the sink splashed some cold water on his grimy face. He could feel two pairs of green eyes boring into him. So instead of stripping down for a shower, the Halfa walked back into the main room and looked up…way up…at the two tall men. "So…what now? Am I good to go?"

"Yeah right, Casper. Get on the couch."

Slowly, he crawled onto the pullout and lay down. His hand curled into a fist under him, ready to focus energy into a blast any second.

But instead, Sam took a big container of Epsom salt out of the bag and handed it to Dean, who proceeded to surround the futon with a wide border of the stuff. He even thought to salt behind the couch, causing Danny to utter a curse under his breath. Phasing through the wall had been his escape plan.  
Once finished, Dean turned away and sat on his bed, taking out the paper to look over for any mysterious occurrences. Sam sat at the small desk and opened his laptop.  
Danny, now confused, sat up. "But, wait," he said, "I'm just going to sit here? What if I get hungry? Or thirsty? _What if I need to use the bathroom?!_"

"Too bad."

* * *

The Halfa woke up late that night, around three in the morning. First, he was trying to remember when he fell asleep. Then, he was trying to remember where he was. Then, he was trying to remember what had woken him up in the first place.

Uh-oh.

"Uh…Sam!" he hissed, almost uncomfortable calling anybody else - especially a dude - by that name. "Psst! Sam! You up?"

"Huh?" The figure sat up in his bed. One hand was under the pillow, wrapped tightly around his knife. "What is it?"

"I, uh…need to use the bathroom."

There was a sigh. Sam's tall figure got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, then came out with a trash bin, and put it in Danny's circle.

"…You're kidding me, right?"

Sam sighed again. "Sorry, kid," he said with genuine sympathy, "but we're still not sure we can let you out yet."

He nodded, understanding. These were actually the best conditions he's ever been in as a captive. This was like Shangri La compared to the Red Huntress' lair, or being strapped to one of Vlad's many beloved examination tables, or in a cage on Skulker's Island.

"Get some sleep," Sam said softly. "We'll wake you up tomorrow when we head out."

"I'm putting the cuffs back on, aren't I?"

"Probably, yeah."

"Ah, crud."

* * *

**Once again, thank you all for your favorites, follows, and reviews!**

**This is really fun to work on - in fact, this is the hardest I've ever worked on a project. What I've been doing is writing the chapters on my phone Notes app, then copy/pasting onto my computer.**

**Love ya!**

**~Whatevs**


	3. Food, Glorious Food!

**Hey hey!**

**More awesome reviews! I can't thank you enough - this is the hardest I've ever worked on a project. I think I'm going to substitute long chapters with frequent updates - it just looks longer than it really is on my phone.**  
**Guest Reviews:**

**ZAP: I agree. It is a fairly serious cartoon behind all the snarky one-liners and stupid puns. And yes, much more to come.**

**Haley: Thanks, I take pride in my Danny. As for the brothers, I'm fairly new to Supernatural, being that I'm only beginning season 3. I might do a little more of them, while I watch a little more of their show. And yeah, his sense probably will go off for demons and such, but not- WAIT, NO SPOILERS!**

**Who Cares: Actually, you're right. The metal in the Fentons' lab, I guess, would be impure steel (which is more common) rather than pure iron. As for the hotel secretary, I really should have clarified. Danny had his hands under the desk, and the way Sam was walking with him, all you would have seen was a flash of metal.**

**On with the show!**

* * *

Around noon, Danny was awakened by the now-familiar burning metal on his wrists. "Up an' at em, Spooky," Dean's voice said. The boy groaned and rolled off the futon, just barely missing getting burned by the salt line. He may not be human, Dean thought, but he's still a kid. He turned to his brother. "Whaddya say we go get something to eat, eh?"

A muffled "MM-HMM" came from Danny, who still had his face in the floor. "Wasn't talkin' to you," the oldest snapped.

"Dean, we can't just let him starve."

"Yeah, you can't just let me starve."

The brothers looked at each other.

"I'm a growing boy," Danny threw in. "A growing boy with crazy ghost metabolism."

Dean took a deep breath. "Fine," he muttered. "Fine. Only 'cause there's no one here to watch you."

* * *

The nearest diner was a 50's style joint, complete with black-and-white checker-tiled floors, red vinyl booths, and a jukebox,

If you thought the car ride was uncomfortable, try staring your enemy eye-to-eye across a grey table, mere feet away from grabbing each other's throats.

A waitress showed up after five incredibly awkward moments of Danny trying to keep his eyes on the menu and Sam elbowing Dean and telling him to stop glaring at the boy across from them.

Danny was no longer wearing the handcuffs now, because in a way, he was trapped - by social conviction. Normally, spirits and possessed people don't give a crud about wrecking buildings or making a scene. But obviously, the ghost boy was in control, and he'd prefer not to turn himself into a newspaper headline.

The woman cleared her throat. "And what can I get you boys?" she asked in a gravelly voice.

Dean handed her his menu first. "Can I get a BLT and some apple pie?"

Sam passed his down. "Just a coffee and some eggs, thanks."

Dean smirked and said under his breath, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

The response was so immediate, so automatic, Danny just assumed it was a normal exchange for them.

The woman cast her ugly gaze on him. "What'll it be, kid?"

"Oh. Uh, can I have five hamburgers and fries, and three Cokes?"

The waitress raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but wrote in down anyway.

Once she left, Dean raised his eyebrows at the kid. "Wow, that's, uh, a lot of hamburgers."

"Heh, yeah. Half-ghost metabolism, plus I haven't eaten in awhile."

"Interesting."

Sam put his laptop on the table. "Apparently," he said, "this woman, Sarah O'Brien, was accused of murder in the 80's. Her house burned down a few miles away, which is where she died."

"So, what, you think she's back, killin' more people?" his older brother asked.

"'S possible."

"Should we check it out?"

"Yeah, sure, so long as Ghosty doesn't mind chillin' in the car for awhile."

At his mention, the kid groaned loudly and faceplanted into the table.

* * *

Danny kept his head on the table in defeat until he smelled their food leave the kitchen across the restaurant and snapped his head up just in time to watch five plates of food slide onto the table in front of him, a bit of drool escaping his lips.

As soon as the waitress left, he grabbed the first burger and crammed it into his mouth, tearing into it like a dog. The brothers watched, intrigued and slightly disgusted (in Sam's case, anyway) as the ghost boy finished his burger and started stuffing the fries in his mouth, seven at a time.

Finally, Dean shrugged and picked up his sandwich. "So, how many people know 'bout your dirty little secret?"

"Hm?" Danny looked up at him,  
a fry sticking out of his mouth in mid-chew, his blue eyes wide. "Wuh? Oh." He swallowed his food. "No one but you guys and anyone you've told - you haven't told anyone yet, have you?"

"No. No, we haven't." Sam spooned some eggs into his mouth.

The Halfa nodded, smiled, and started on his second burger.

* * *

When they finished, Dean signed the check with his fake signature and credit card number. When they got to the car, Danny was met with a surprise.

"What, no cuffs this time?"

"Nah, just get in the car before I change my mind."

He thought about this. If he took off now, then these hunters would probably stop at nothing to track him, and never trust him again. Plus, he had nowhere to go. So, he opened the car door and slid inside.

"Besides," Dean threw in, "it's not like you'll be going anywhere from that trap." He started the car and they drove off.

* * *

**So I'm going to stop it here, before I get into the hunt scene. That'll take way too long.**

**Thanks for the awesome reviews, feel free to leave more!**

**~Whatevs**


	4. AN - Sorry about the wait!

**Sorry to get your hopes up. Don't worry, I will not be quitting this story any time soon. I just wanted to apologize for the wait.**

**I've been away from home for the past few months, and in a position where I was unable to publish anything. Of course, I have been writing that entire time, but I ran into a...problem involving accidental data deletion, meaning that everything I had written was immediately deleted.**

**Sucks, I know.**

**But don't worry. I got my mojo back. I've already started, in fact.**

**Just wanted to apologize.**

**I won't be able to answer all the anonymous reviews, but I do remember one asking about my name. It's just a family joke, no significance.**

**Thanks for sticking with me, I won't disappoint!**

**~Whatevs**


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